


Shire Roots, Erebor Heart

by KQQM



Series: Shire Roots, Erebor Heart [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - No One Ring, Body Dysphoria, Comfort/Angst, Dysphoria, Eventually Resolved Sexual Tension, Gay Characters, Gay Male Character, Gender Confusion, Gender Dysphoria, Gender Related Trauma, I want this to be readable to everyone, Internalized Homophobia, Internalized Transphobia, M/M, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Self-Love, Slow Burn, Smut will be posted as alternate works, Trans Characters, Trans Male Character, alternate title: big gay fic!, assorted LGBTs, bi characters, no one is cis and het here, soulmate themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-16 04:54:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18087818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KQQM/pseuds/KQQM
Summary: Re-write ofWhere The Oak Tree Grows.After many years and much doubt, Bilbo finally decides to leave the Shire. It doesn't feel like home, it never really has. And with his mother's passing and the trauma associated with home, it's time to move on. With his inheritance and aching heart, Bilbo sheds his old self and moves to the Lonely Mountain.A tale of self exploration, learning to love yourself, and finding love in unexpected places. We follow a hobbit who just wants to find peace in his heart. Through all the growing pains and heartache we watch him bloom.---------------A shameless comfort fic and a way to express my experience as a gay trans man. I really love this pairing and need to write more of them. Complete AU that ignores the entirety of The Hobbit plot and uses just the characters and world. I'm bad at world building but pretty decent at character building.





	Shire Roots, Erebor Heart

**Author's Note:**

> So I originally started this three years ago and kind of dropped it. I'm an entire adult who gets very stressed and burnt out easily. I also had a lot of conflicting feelings as I started to change and grow as a gay trans man. I debated just picking back off where I left off but it was easier to re-write from the ground up. More back story on Bilbo's upbringing, deeper reflection of the self doubt and internalized issues. It very closely mirrors my own feelings and experiences as a trans person. This has been really wonderful to come back to honestly. I have it storyboarded out and it'll probably take me a while to finish. I wanna write something long. I have a lot I wanna put into this fic. It's gunna be fucking wild lads. Gunna write a whole novel for y'all.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the depths of his heart the mountain calls to a heartbroken hobbit living in Bag End. From the earliest years to his ma's deathbed, he seeks himself. With nothing to lose he looks to the Kingdom Under the Mountain. Gandalf gathers a handful of dwarrows, friendly and excited to meet the little hobbit. It would certainly be an adventure to remember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (last updated 6/1/19: title & chapter summary added, grammar and plot consistency fixes, some wording changes, and detail changes)

He couldn’t place how long he’d felt this way. As a young hobbit he didn't think too much of it. He buried the stinging words: she, girl, miss, beautiful. From his experience, it didn't seem like any other hobbit was like him. Something deep in his heart knew whatever he felt was a bad thing.

For years he rationalized it. He liked boys just like the girls his age. He didn’t hate his body  _that_  much. There were some good things about it. If he squinted he could find things to like about it. It wouldn’t kill him to spend his whole life playing pretend. It would make Pa happy.

_It would’ve kept Pa from leaving._  

If he had never opened his mouth everything would’ve been ok.

Some deep part of him wanted to scream it to the world. He wanted it off his chest. Ma was a Took, adventurous and wild at heart. She would understand. But whenever he wanted to speak up, the words stuck like burs in his throat. It wrapped around his heart like thorns, cutting him deep. She always looked at him with kind, understanding eyes when he choked on his words. Neither of them knew how to talk about it.

There was a feeling that everyone around him knew. He wasn’t good at making friends. He was the odd fauntling out. He was too rough to be a girl but too delicate to be a boy. There was nothing worse than being around his peers. He fidgeted, he shut down, he threw temper tantrums, he couldn’t talk right. He heard the rumors going on behind his back. He didn’t understand why.

Why  **him**?

The Shire wasn’t his home. It never was and never would be. From a young age his heart called to the Kingdom Under the Mountain.

Erebor.

It was a simple choice to the hobbit. He wouldn’t ever fit in with the elves, they were far too tall and beautiful. A clumsy little hobbit would get lost underfoot. Humans are far too loud and aggressive, not to mention also too tall.

The mountain was no place for a hobbit. Yet all he wanted was to get lost in the halls of the mountain.

That was one thing he could express and share with Ma. She was supportive of his desires for adventure. Pa wasn’t so fond of it but he didn’t bother speaking up about it.

Ma brought him books of dwarven tales and adventures. Khuzdul was a secret language but he loved how the runes looked, even if he couldn’t read them. Maybe one day he could learn the language. The hope burned bright in his heart.

Something about dwarrows spoke to him. Their customs felt like home to him. Maybe because they were so different than anything he knew. Short like him but built from the rock itself. Tales of treasure and pride. Of love and loss.

It all felt too good to be true. Surely it was all played up in the tales to make everything seem far more wonderful. There was no way dwarrows were as perfect as they sounded on paper.

 

 

 

 

At twelve his body started to grow in the wrong directions. It mocked him in the mirror, a stranger with cold eyes. Soft in the wrong places, curves where there shouldn’t be, and his breasts where too big.

Why couldn’t he trade his breasts for a few chest hairs? His round face for a couple of whiskers? Sure, hobbits didn’t grow much body hair but the idea was far more palpable than the hobbit in the mirror. He did everything he could to be happy.

After many long nights, he gave himself a new name.

**_Bilbo._ **

A secret wrapped under his pretend self. A quiet whisper under the blankets in the dead of night. It wasn't anything like the name he was born with. That in of itself was a comfort. The further he could distance himself from who he was born as the better.

As the years ticked by Erebor sounded better and better. How he longed to escape from a place that isolated him. To move across the mountains where no one knew what a hobbit even was. Where he could create himself from scratch. A whole new hobbit.

**_Bilbo._ **

The name promised him hope and a future where he didn’t have to pretend. It gave him hope that he didn’t have to hide for the rest of his life. That he could be a man instead of a stranger.

It felt so foolish to think. He should be grateful for being a girl. If he was a man, then he’d have to like women and all he wanted was to have a husband. If he could be okay with being a woman than everything would be fine. The ache would leave his heart and the guilt will dissipate. Right?

**_Bilbo._ **

The name stung. His heart ached at the weight of it. Giving himself a new name started to give power to something he tried to hide. He buried it, trying to suffocate the twisted desires. Bilbo held his name close to his heart and built walls to protect it.

But it spilled out, the ache too heavy for him. At fifteen he knew there was no way he could ride this out alone. With tears in his eyes it tumbled off his tongue and out his lips.

“Bilbo.”

It was barely louder than a whisper and yet was as loud as shattering glass. There was confusion on Pa’s face. Ma looked sad, a knowing in her soft eyes.

“My name is Bilbo. I’m not your daughter…I’m your son.”

The seconds felt like years as they ticked by. Realization dawned on Pa and his expression twisted into disgusted. He stood up from his reading chair and left the room without a word. Ma rose slowly and walked over to Bilbo. She held him in her arms and patted his hair.

“Bilbo, it’s a beautiful name. I love you Bilbo.”

A weight lifted but it wasn’t his mother he was worried about. There was only so much comfort he could take in her embrace with how Pa had looked at him. The look of disgust would haunt Bilbo for years.

But Bilbo sobbed into Ma's arms. His heart felt like it was made of molten iron and was going to burn him from the inside out. He had made a mistake. He should've never opened his mouth.

And for the next few months Pa barely acknowledged him. Every time he referred to Bilbo he put emphasis on his wrong name and “she”. Ma pushed back too, using Bilbo and “he”. The fighting between his parents stung. He would cry himself to sleep as Pa yelled. Usually a gentle Baggins, he said wicked words that hurt. Bilbo had shattered their wonderful family by being so selfish. The seed of guilt planted itself in his gut and grew like a weed.

Pa and him would get into fights that would end with Bilbo crying. It was used against him, surely if he was a proper man he wouldn't cry. Pa’s painful words fractured Bilbo's frail heart. Ma did her best to comfort Bilbo, explaining that his Pa was confused and hurt. Bilbo was a unique young man and to his Pa it was too un-Hobbitlike to swallow. And Bilbo had known this. The looks of his peers, the pain in his heart, the stranger in the mirror; he was barely a hobbit. Maybe more of a monster than a creature with a soft heart. The weed grew thorns and threatened to sink deep into Bilbo's heart.

The day Pa left, Bilbo wouldn't forget that. Ma sobbing as Pa walked out the door without even looking back. Not a single word to Bilbo, not even a glance back over his shoulder. Pa left his other half and the child they had together without a second thought.

How foolish Bilbo was to ever open his mouth.

And through it all, Ma never blamed him. All she wanted was for him to stop hating himself for being himself. But he knew deep in his heart it was all his fault. He tore his family apart. Drove Pa away. Broke Ma’s heart. He was a horrible, selfish creature. All he had to do was play pretend. 

But he hadn't and now Bilbo had to live with what he had done.

 

 

 

Ma was sick. After Pa left, the Shire ostracized them even more. The idea of something as disgusting as a married couple breaking up, it ruined Ma's reputation across the Shire. Not to mention their daughter was running around thinking herself a  _boy_.

There was only one other person Bilbo could turn to. Gandalf was a wandering wizard, well known for his fireworks. The wizard always had a soft spot for Bilbo and lingered in the Shire more when Ma fell sick. Gandalf became someone to talk to, to confide in when Bilbo couldn't stomach burdening his mother. And late one night, with talk of leaving heavy, the thought came to Bilbo.

“Maybe he’ll come back if I go,” his voice was so small and tears burned at his eyes.

“She wouldn’t take him back. You and I both know that. She made the choice to keep you instead of him. He hoped he could tame her wild heart. Yes he loved her but he was selfish in his choice to leave. Bilbo, you can blame yourself all you’d like but it’s not your fault,” Gandalf looked at the hobbit with impossibly old eyes, a sorrowful look haunting them. Bilbo adverted his gaze and stared instead at the crackling fireplace.

“I know, I know. I keep telling myself that but the guilt is so heavy. It feels like it might drown me.”

“Bilbo, your Ma loves you and wants you to be happy. And if that means leaving then that is what would be best.”

“There’s no room for a hobbit in a mountain. I don’t even know if it’s the right choice. What if I regret it? What if I’m wrong? What if—” Gandalf huffed and cut Bilbo off.

“You and I both know it’s the right choice. Fear is normal. Moving is scary. Losing your parents is terrifying. Making the choice to move across the mountains and change your life is massive. I've seen you over the years and we both know that you won't regret it. I am confident to say it would be the best choice you could make.”

"I'm scared I'll hate myself after. That the changes won't be what I want. That I'll be stuck all the way over there and without a home to come back to here."

Gandalf thought for a moment before nodding to himself.

"I will keep your mother safe while you follow your heart. And I will talk to the king under the mountain. Thráin is a kind man and has a son and daughter just like you. You will find that the mountain is welcoming. While it will certainly be different to have a hobbit there I’m certain there will be people there to support you.”

“Like me?” Bilbo’s heart fluttered. The concept of identity being allowed to be open and explored? Preposterous. 

“Yes, just like you. Erebor will be a good fit for you. Dwarrows can be odd creatures but with the king’s word you’ll be welcome. I think their mannerisms will be more suitable than that of the hobbits here.”

“Oh, Gandalf, I have one favor to ask of you about the...moving situation. Make sure to ask King Thráin not to tell why I’m coming to Erebor. I don’t know if I’m ready for everyone to know. I’m still…trying to wrap my head around it.”

“I understand. Please know that you will not be hurt for being yourself there. Thráin would not allow it. But I will insure that only those who need to know will be told. And if anything goes wrong I will be there for you.”

Bilbo smiled softly and tears spilled down his face. He felt…a lot of things. Fear, excitement, relief, grief, guilt, joy. Everything threatening to bubble over. Gandalf stood from his chair and opened his arms to Bilbo. Bilbo accepted the hug without thought.  

 

 

He didn't find the heart to leave until he was twenty. Ma finally pushed him, insisting that he needed to get away from the Shire. That being cooped up in this little hobbit hole was only going to hurt them both. A caravan had been arranged and he was set to leave in the morning. It was too late to turn back.

“Bilbo, I love you. You know that right? Go to the mountain. Follow your heart. A Took heart doesn’t lie.”

She squeezed his hand as tears rolled down his face. He was so scared. It was so simple on paper but there was so much that would happen because of this choice.

“I’m so—”

“Don’t apologize. I chose you Bilbo. I chose to love my son. Pa gave me a choice. I let him leave. I knew it would end up here, but I’d rather have my handsome son than a selfish husband. Leave the Shire for me, if not for yourself. If your heart calls to the mountain then go.

I’ve been sick for a long time. I didn’t want to worry you. It was starting before Pa left. I knew deep down. You’ve already dealt with so much. I wanted to protect you and that was selfish of me. You’re a handsome young man with so much love in your heart.

And I’ll always be with you. I will live in your heart with your love for me. Any time you doubt and ache, remember that I wanted this for you. For you to have this grand adventure. At worst this little home will always be here for you.”

Bilbo let out an ugly sob and pressed his cheek into her hand. He felt so impossibly small and helpless. At twenty he hadn’t even come of age. There were so many years left in his life.

“Please go. I don’t want you to hold my hand as I leave this world. Remember me in this moment. Write letters to me. I will hold on for as long as I can and read every one. I promise that.” Her hand stroked his cheek, warm and familiar. He could only answer with more tears, burning his eyes and tightening his throat.

 

 

The morning came both too soon and not soon enough. Ma was bed bound and too tired to walk him out. But they shared a soft moment in the early morning. His face held in her hands as she pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“I love you Bilbo. I will  **always**  love you. You will always be my son and I would choose you every time. Try to let go of the guilt, for me. All I want for you is to heal the wounds on your heart.”

“I love you too Ma. I will write as soon as I make it to the mountain. I promise.”

“Thank you. I look forward to hearing all about it. Now go, you’re got quite a journey head of you, young man.”

Ma held him tight to her chest one more time before shooing him from her room. She was nothing but bright smiles and laughter. It warmed Bilbo from head to toe that she was so happy for him and so supportive.

Gandalf was waiting in the living room with a small smile on his face.

“Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Bilbo gave a nervous laugh and grabbed his bags.

This was it. It was finally happening. Bilbo took in the Shire in its early morning glory for what was most likely the last time. Neighbors were staring at the wagon with an array of emotions. This would give them enough gossip for at least a year.

From what he understood there were four dwarrows to escort them. Their wagon was unlike anything Bilbo had seen, obviously made for long adventures like that. It’s size was impressive, which looked like it would easily carry all the supplies needed for the trip. At the front were some incredibly intimidating beasts.

The hobbit had seen cows but with the horns it was obvious they weren’t. Baugulf’s cows were a beautiful black with white spots and soft coats. These beasts seemed to be nothing but skin and a deep brown like mud. A wooden contraption held the pair’s necks together. They were taller and stockier than ponies and possibly bigger than Baugulf’s cows!

Bilbo hurried to the back of the covered wagon to greet his travel companions. The inside was stocked with a pile of supplies and four bright-eyed dwarrows. Three of them were in the back and the other toward the front. Two of them in the back were pressed close together with the third sitting across from them.  

They noticed him immediately, greeting him enthusiastically.

“I’ll take your bags, Master Hobbit,” the dwarf had a kind smile and goofy hat. His hair was simple but impressive, braided in the front with an impressively curled mustache. Bilbo handed him his three bags one at a time and the youngest looking dwarf offered him a hand. The hobbit was thankful for the help, too small to pull himself up alone.

“Bilbo right?” the younger asked, a bright small on his face. Bilbo nodded. “It’s a pleasure to meet you! I’m Ori.” The young dwarf had reddish brown hair, a soft smile, and a smattering of freckles on his face. He had braids in front and behind his ears and very small ones in his beard. There was an energetic and excitable energy that felt contagious. Bilbo's heart began to lighten. 

“This is my brother Nori and his husband Bofur.” Ori gestured to the two in kind. Nori was a wild looking dwarf with an elaborate hairstyle. It was pointed in a fashion that resembled a star and not a single strand looked out of place. Not to mention that the dwarf’s  _eyebrows_ were braided. And his beard was equally impressive, with thick iron clasps holding the braids together. It was impressive to say the least.

“Pleasure,” Nori nodded, a polite smile on his face. Bilbo realized he was staring and averted his eyes. This made Nori laugh and Bilbo’s face flushed.

“Good to meet ya laddie,” Bofur was the one in the hat. It suited him. The couple looked comfortable.  _Husbands_. The thought was warm in Bilbo’s stomach.

“And Frerin! He’s the middle child of King Thráin,” Frerin gave a “hello” from the front of the wagon. How the dwarf could be comfortable guiding those massive beasts was beyond him.

“Good to meet you. My brother and sister had too much going on at home to come. But it felt like good form for one of the royal family to meet you. We are excited to have you and that you would travel all the way out to our mountain for your ailment! You don’t have to tell us about it, all that matters is that we get you to the mountain in one piece,” Frerin had a warm, kind smile. Deep blue eyes, bright honey hair, and two simple braids in both his hair and beard.

Despite not knowing the dwarrows, Bilbo felt safe. He had worried that they wouldn’t like him. It would make sense, Bilbo is a hobbit moving all the way out to the mountain for an “illness” he wouldn’t talk about. Tears threatened to fall but he kept them at bay.

“Thank you for the warm welcome and coming all the way down here for me. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s not a problem! Not every day I get to make a trip like this,” Ori gave a half shrug and a smile. “The time passes quickly when you take the journey with friends.”

“And hopefully we can all be friends by the end of this!” Bofur chimed in. The other three cheered to that. Bilbo felt his face flush. Never had he been accepted with such warmth and enthusiasm. It was overwhelming but not unwelcome. The tears finally built up and poured down.

“Oh! Are you okay laddie?” Bofur looked concerned and Ori put on a comforting hand on the hobbit’s shoulder. Bilbo could only nod as the tears burned his eyes. Usually he wasn’t fond of being touched by strangers but the touch was warm not malicious. He happily leaned into it.

“I’m fine. Just not used to attention like this. I haven’t had a genuine friend...at least not for a very long time.”

All four dwarrows looked shocked. They exchanged a look and Ori embraced Bilbo. The hobbit stiffened for a second before relaxing. It was so foreign to receive such an enthusiastic welcome and a  **hug**  but it warmed his heart.

“Well you’ll have a wonderful time with us! Dwarrows know how to treat guests and how to make friends. You’re going to love Erebor. I just know it!” Ori pulled away and grinned blindingly at Bilbo.

Bilbo had a feeling that things would, in fact, turn out okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had debated having Bilbo take his mom's last name. But Bilbo Took didn't have the same ring as Bilbo Baggins.  
> I also heavily debated shortening the trip but Tolkien didn't spend his whole life worldbuildiing for me to be lazy. Also I have countless maps with mile markers on them, I have no excuses.  
> 


End file.
